Family Business
by sketchnurse
Summary: Sixteen year old boys don't expect babies. And forty-nine year old men don't expect thirty-three year old children to sit in their chair, waiting to meet them. Don't think there's anything more to it, marked as COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Something was wrong with the picture in front of him. Everything in House's office was as he had left it, but there was one little tiny thing wrong with it. Well, maybe it wasn't so tiny, because a woman of thirty-three sitting in the chair behind his desk was certainly a big change. He thought that he recognized her, but he didn't know who she was, though there was something familiar about the smug look on her face as she looked up at him, smiling.

"Well, look's like the doctor's finally in the house. Or the House is finally in the office. Nice décor, by the way. Really has the whole 'I really don't give a shit if you think my office is messy' kind of a vibe about it." A thin black haired face turned her attention to the fingernails on her long pianist's hands while she waited for him to reply.

"Who the hell are you?" Subtle. She knew that he would be very, _very _subtle.

"Indeed, who am I? That really could take hours. Do you wish to know my position, parentage, or reason for sitting in your chair? Because all three answers would be of great interest to you

"Fine." House answered, not liking that this woman was in no way shape or form intimidated by him.

"Well, the look of recognition may be from the fact that I am the new psychologist here, and you were three people behind me in the lunch line today, or it might be from the fact that I share many of your facial features, and the startlingly blue eyes that caused my mother to desire to take your virginity thirty four years ago." the woman finished calmly, as if talking to a frustrated ten year old. Her words caused House's mouth to gape open for a few seconds, before he recovered and resumed his usual expression of cocky indifference.

"Ah. I get it. You're my daughter, created when I was sixteen and desperate to get laid, and you decided that you would check out the staff at your new workplace. Discovering a name that your mother surely remembers in complete awe and reverence, you wanted to check up on this possible father figure. Well, I hate to break it to you, but father I am not."

"Hmm. Didn't really expect you to be the caring type, having shot a couple well placed glances at the file kept on you. Now, before you go all inwardly freaked out on having a new found spawn, maybe you can sit down before your right leg gives out on you." House looked down to see that his injured leg was indeed shaking, and he now noticed that bolts of pain were shooting up his thigh. Well, nothing like the shock of finding your unknown daughter, created in the eleventh grade, sitting in your desk when you were just about to sit down for a quiet glass of scotch to get your mind off of chronic pain. He popped a couple Vicodin, eyeing his _daughter _suspiciously.

"Are you sure that this isn't just some elaborate practical joke?"

"Oh, you don't believe that. But I'll give you points for trying to put me into a different place in your life other than your offspring. But don't worry; I'm already past all of the awkward stages of my life. You can treat me like anyone else, which I expect would be with cynicism and arrogance. I will be working at the hospital for as long as I can, which might not be very long. You see I, like you, have a flair for trouble and a nagging disrespect for authority." Ironic that just then, Cuddy walked into the office, carrying a file and a look of ultimate vengeance.

"House!" she shouted, looking past the woman sitting in the space he would usually occupy, "You weren't at clinic duty this morning, which means you have to do double tomorrow, which might be a problem seeing as you have a new case!"

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Cuddy. I actually can't do clinic duty, now or ever. I finally got myself tested and it turns out I AM allergic to the seat covers in the exam rooms. Besides, we wouldn't want to get into a heated argument, not while we have company. Because you know how those always end up in a different kind of heat." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, which caused Cuddy to roll her eyes, before remembering what he had just said.

"Dr. Phelps! What the hell are you doing here?" she asked the woman behind her (least) favourite employee's desk. "I'm sure you've read Dr. House's file, which really should contain a very long warning letter." She looked at House angrily, as if she believed that it was his fault that she had ended up in his office.

"House, this is Dr. Holly Phelps, the new psychologist in the pediatrics department. Dr. Phelps, this is Dr. Gregory House, Head of Diagnostics."

"I'm sure she figured that out from the sign outside, Cuddy. And what happened to the old psychologist in pediatrics? I always liked old Henry; he always closed the elevator door on me when I was trying to get in. Oh, wait, that's not a happy memory. I seem to have gotten happy and sad mixed up. Maybe Dr. Phelps can help me."

"It's okay." Phelps said as Cuddy made a move to reprimand House for his rudeness. "He didn't drag me in here or anything; I came of my own free will."

"And why was that?" Cuddy asked, looking as if she was wondering what possible reason anyone would ever willingly see House.

"I wanted to see my father." Phelps smiled at the confused look on Cuddy's face. Just a few more minutes, and she could enjoy the fallout from what would surely be one of the Dean's biggest shocks in a while. Oh, this would be good.

"Is he one of House's patients?" Cuddy asked weakly, hoping that the answer would not be…

"House _is _my father." Yup, the look of shock on her face did not disappoint. Cuddy blinked her eyes stupidly for a few seconds before turning to House, who was wearing a very curious expression on his face. Almost like pride…

"Is that true?"

"Looks like it. If her last name is Phelps, that means her mother was Olivia Phelps, the very lovely young woman I lost my virginity to when I was sixteen, before moving away with my family to follow my father. Plus, she seems to share my love of screwing with people." That would most definitely be a plus. Maybe having a daughter wouldn't be so bad, if they could be more friends than family. And by friends, he meant drinking buddies.

"You seem to be dealing with this pretty well."

"Like she said, she's past the awkward teenager phase, and her job seems pretty set, so not much parenting I need to do."

"Well, maybe you two can get to know each other. Your case is on your desk; please take a look at it before throwing it in the trash. I'll be down in my office if you need to talk, Dr. Phelps."

"I think I'll be fine." Oh, she would be more than fine. Her father seemed to be the perfect person to wreak havoc on the hospital with. And he seemed to have the Dean of Medicine in his pocket, so that wouldn't be a problem. Oh yes, she noticed the sparks flying between them.

"Well, I'll expect you," she said, turning to House, "At the board meeting tomorrow morning, so you better be on time. We are, after all, discussing the _law suit _problem."

"Wilson should just stop harassing his patients." House said with a straight face.

"Yes, I'm sure that if _Wilson _stopped being an inconsiderate ass to everyone who gets in his way, there wouldn't be this problem to discuss."

"I'll be sure to tell him that. See ya round, Cuddles." And with that, she stalked off down the hallway; her hips swinging attractively as she unconsciously moved her body differently knowing that House would be staring after her.

"Damn, she's one fine piece of ass. If you don't tap that, I will." Phelps said, breaking the silence that accompanied House's admiring stare.

"What, are you bisexual? Cause I know one girl who's a bit more willing to get into that stuff than PowerAdministrator over there."

"No. I'm a lesbian." House looked incredulously at her.

"Fo' shizzle?"

"Fo' shizzle." she answered, smirking as he smiled at her.

"I already tapped that." he told her proudly, "And trust me, it was awesome."

"Really. When?"

"Twenty years ago." he admitted grudgingly.

"Well, we're just going to have to work on that, won't we?" He looked at her skeptically.

"Oh, come on, Romeo, the electricity between you two was so strong I could almost see the bolts of lightning. You do want to sleep with her again, don't you?"

"Well, duh." Who wouldn't want to sleep with her? Although House had a sneaking suspicion that Phelps was talking about a little more than just a one time thing, and some part of House couldn't help but agree with her. Of course, this was the small part of House that just offered his more dominating side someone to poke fun at when he was bored.

"Then I can help you." She smiled even wider at House, which was just as disconcerting on her as it was on him.

"Why do you want to hook me up with Cuddy?"

"Well, let's just say that playing matchmaker is just on of the many ways that I amuse myself."

"You just want to make other people happy because you can't find that kind of connection with anyone yourself."

"Stop deflecting, I know you want her."

"Well, you're deflecting from the truth I spoke in my deflection."

"For your information, I have a girlfriend. She works here; actually, she was the one who recommended the job for me."

"And just which one of our fine nurses are you currently screwing?"

"Now, I can't tell you that, you'd just harass the living hell out of her." House smirked. Finally, someone who really understood him and could play his annoying games. Foreman came in the room, carrying a case file.

"We have a case, forty seven year old-" Foreman looked at the woman sitting in House's chair curiously. "What's Dr. Phelps doing here?"

"How does Ebony know who you are?" House asked her, out of Foreman's earshot.

"He offered to buy me lunch today." she grumbled reluctantly, "I was forced to make small talk."

Foreman registered the private conversation between the two people.

"Do you guys know each other?"

"Oh, yeah, Dr. Phelps over here is the calls handler at my favorite escort service." answered House, looking at Phelps for approval. She looked at him, amused, and winked at Foreman.

"Actually, I'm House's daughter." she said in a sarcastic tone, laughing at the look of glee on House's face.

"Well, you seem to share his sense of humour. That's a good one, House having a daughter in her thirties; he would've had to have been a teenager when you were created." House chuckled.

"Actually, Foreman, Dr. Phelps _is _my daughter. Just found out today. Surprise!"

"Yeah right." Foreman looked at House and Phelps, who looked pretty serious.

"You're not joking!"

"Nope. Now, before you start the rumour mill going, well, just don't. There really isn't any reason to believe that we're related, in fact, if people see us together, they're more likely to believe that we're dating."

"Well, it was nice meeting you again, uh, Dr. Phelps." Foreman said awkwardly, as House and Phelps looked at him, amused by his obvious discomfort. "We do have a case, House."

"Ahh, yes, the righteous calling of saving lives, instead of picking apart the mind behind them."

"I guess I should leave you alone with your world class team, then." Phelps said, picking up her purse.

"Done some research on your new found old man?"

"There really wasn't enough information out there for research; you really haven't made enough of an impression on the medical community." she said sarcastically.

"No, wreaking havoc in multiple hospitals while solving the unsolvable hasn't given me enough of a reputation." House replied, rolling his eyes at her. "Goodbye, Dr. Offspring."

"Goodbye, Dr. Dad." Phelps said as she got out of his chair and walked out the door.

"Wow, you seem to have your hands full with that one." Foreman commented.

"Yeah, well, like she said, I'm lucky I met her after the teenage years. And no, you can't ask her out for dinner. She's a lesbian."

"Yeah," said Foreman, chuckling, "She told me as soon as I offered to buy me a salad."


	2. Chapter 2

"So," House chuckled as Phelps nearly choked on her sandwich, "The guy tells me that his chest hurts after he exercises, and he's started to breathe poorly, so I ask him, very kindly, mind you, if he remembers to breathe while exercising. And do you know what he says? He says, I didn't know you were supposed to. So I say, it's okay buddy, I used to not think you needed to breathe while running two hundred meters too!" House was having lunch in the hospital cafeteria with his daughter, three days after she met him in his office, and they were already chatting like old friends.

'That's amazing!" she said, rather loudly. Several people looked at them strangely; it really was weird to see House having a lively conversation with anyone other than Wilson.

"Yeah, and that's just the stupidest case I had today! God, you should listen to some of the idiots that come in. I swear, fifty percent of them have the common cold…"

"Yeah, you must get some real dumbasses when you _actually _show up for clinic."

"Oho! Been having some heart to heart chats with the she-devil about my work habits?"

"As a matter of fact I have. And she really is the she-devil, how could she manage to do that much work and keep up with you if she was a human?"

"Not to mention that she has a kid to take care of when she finally pries herself off of her desk."

"Yeah, I've seen pictures, she's pretty cute."

"Yeah, real cute, except when she's puking all over your new shirt."

"You buy new shirts? I thought you just went down to the Sally-Ann and picked out your favourites."

"Very funny. I forgot, you actually like children."

"And you don't?"

"No, though sometimes they're considerably easier to deal with than adults."

"That's just because they don't use as many big words that you don't understand."

"Yeah, right, I probably know more big words than ninety-five percent of the people that I deal with."

"I'm just teasing you, no need to get all defensive."

"Yeah, well, I need to get defensive with your acid tongue."

"Did you, Gregory House, just give me a complement? I'll be sure to alert the media."

"I guess you're just one of the few people in the world who would be happy to ear that they have a sharp mouth."

"Well, I'm sure you'd join the exclusive club with me."

"That I would, dear offspring." It was at this point in the conversation that a certain boy-faced oncologist spotted his best friend in the cafeteria, having what looked like an actual conversation with a woman. He walked over to the pair, not sure what to expect. She didn't really seem like the type of woman that House would go for, she looked intelligent, she wasn't gorgeous, though she was pleasant looking, and her breasts weren't popping out of her shirt.

"Who's this?" Wilson asked, popping a french fry into his mouth, easing his tray out of the way of House's roving fingers. "And why did you call her 'offspring'?"

"Did I really say it that loud? God, now that whole hospital will be talking about how she's mine and Cuddy's long lost daughter." House smirked as Phelps stole a french fry off the tray that Wilson had placed near here, trying to get it away from House.

"Dr. Phelps! You can't steal french fries from Wilson; he's _my _friend to mooch off of! There's gonna be none left for me!" She stuck his tongue out at him, and proceeded to stuff five fries in her mouth at once.

"See what I have to put up with? Imagine what she would have been like when she was seventeen, I would have had to buy her a car and pick her up from bars in the middle of the night..."

"She's not actually your daughter, is she? She's a bit old; you would have had to have made her when you were in your teens." House, have a daughter in her thirties? At least she wasn't a teenager, or worse, an eight year old.

"Yeah, well, sixteen year old hormones don't wait for condoms. And don't give me that 'why didn't you tell me' face, Wilson." House added at the look on his friend's face. "I just found out about her three days ago."

"Oh, she just decided to stop in the area and see if her long lost father was available for a chat? Come on House, you don't bond this fast, you have to have known about her for a while."

"Nope!" House said, grabbing for the fries, which Wilson hastily whisked away from both of them, noticing that over half of them were gone. "We just have a lot in common. We share a healthy admiration of Cuddy's ass."

"I'm a lesbian." Phelps said, speaking for the first time.

"Does it please you to be that blunt about your sexuality? Or do you just like to watch the looks of disappointment on guy's faces?"

"It's fun to be blunt. You're pretty blunt, when you're not trying to avoid something."

"Me? Avoid something? Ridiculous. I'm always open about everything."

"Yeah, like your appreciation of things of Cuddy's other than her ass."

"Like what, her breasts?"

"Uh, no, you _like _her. L-I-K-E." Wilson laughed at the situation. This woman was so much like House it was ridiculous. Childish, forward, and completely inappropriate.

"I do not." House said, putting on a big pout.

"Mommy always said that when boys pull your hair and make fun of you, it means they like you. Too bad I never liked them. I prefer _other girls_ pulling my hair."

"I'll try to pretend that that wasn't an innuendo. I really don't need any mental images."

"Stop avoiding the subject, you like her and she likes you. So go screw in the janitor's closet or something."

"Can't. Chase and Cameron contaminated it already, along with all the other possible screwing surfaces in the hospital. Hell, they've probably even done it in my office, although I would rather not think about that."

"So, does Dr. Phelps work here?" Wilson asked, trying to get the conversation away from Chase and Cameron going at it on House's desk. He did _not_ need that image.

"She's the new psychologist in my favourite department, pediatrics. Oh, and by the way, this is James Wilson, Head of Oncology, and the best source of free food and annoying sympathy here." Wilson shook her hand.

"Ah, Cuddy was talking about you. You've got some really radical methods for working with children I hear."

"Like father, like daughter." House, ridiculously pompously.

"Yeah, except my treatment methods don't generally cost the hospital millions of dollars a year."

"Well, we'll see about that. We can have a contest, who can cost Cuddy the most money by the end of the year."

"Uh, no, I'd rather stay on the Dean of Medicine's good side, thank you."

"Why, hoping to get in her pants?"

"I'll leave the pants getting to you, Daddy Dearest. She's not really my type."

"So what is your type? I'll screen all the nurses to see which one matches your description."

"Like you'd ever put that much effort into anything."

"You already have me figured out pretty good. Seems like the puzzle solving gene transferred."

"Well, I have known you for an entire three days, and all you've done is show me around the hospital, which is really pointless because I had an orientation two weeks ago, so you're just trying to avoid clinic duty, because that's what you do when your case is solved in a few hours. Clinic, fortunately for me, is not one of my responsibilities, because I'm not actually a medical doctor."

"Well, that's one perk of not being a real doctor. Wilson, you can sit down, you don't need to stand awkwardly at the edge of the table, we're not having a sappy father-daughter moment." Wilson sat down reluctantly. It wasn't as if he had much food to eat, most of his french fries had been eaten by House and his offspring.

"So, Dr. Phelps, do you want to come to the bar with me and Wilson tonight?" House asked, surprising his friend. He never invited anyone to come to the bar with them, not even Cuddy.

"You know, you can call me Holly, you don't have to call me Dr. Phelps. That's kind of weird, what kind of father calls you by your title?"

"I told you, I'm not your father, I'm your friend who just happened to be the man who helped create you."

"Right," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But you still don't need to call me Dr. Phelps."

"I thought it would be the _professional _thing to do, since we're in the workplace."

"Oh yes, let's be _professional_. But you better not call me Dr. Phelps when we hit the bar with baby-face over here." She looked at Wilson, who was still in a bit of a shock.

"Don't insult Wilson, _Holly; _he's a little bit sensitive. He's only had three wives."

"Really?" she asked Wilson, amused. "Surely you've figured out that you're gay by now?"

"I'm not gay!" Wilson shouted, causing a group of interns to look over and giggle stupidly. He blushed, looking at the cafeteria patrons that were giving him strange stares. "I'm not gay." he said, more quietly.

"Trust me, Jimmy's not gay, he's the biggest panty-peeler here."

"I though that that title would have gone to you."

"No, I, unlike Wilson, don't bang anything with breasts."

"Well, I have to go." Wilson said, before House could reveal any more embarrassing details about him. "I, unlike you, House, actually have patients I need to see."

"Okay, have fun prescribing chemo to old ladies."

"Don't worry, House, I will, as long as you don't interrupt me to talk about some stupid detail you noticed about Cuddy's shirt that says she's going to go sky-diving next Saturday."

"Damn, you pay that much attention to her?" Phelps asked, smirked at House. "You must be really far gone." House mumbled something incoherent, which just caused Wilson and Phelps to smile at each other.

"I guess I'll be seeing you at the bar later tonight." she said to Wilson.

"Be prepared to peel House off the bar stool." Wilson shouted, and left the cafeteria.

"Well, he seems fun." Phelps said to House.

"Yeah, he's pretty fun, 'cept when he's giving you stupid annoying advice or _caring _about you."

"Oh yeah, I can see how _caring _about you can get annoying. I have to go, my breaks over."

"Well doesn't that just suck for you? I can stay here all day if I want to, as long as Cuddy doesn't see me and drag me off to the pit of hell."

"You better hope you don't get a case, otherwise you could be here longer than me."

"Well, when it gets that late I usually just get my team to do all of the grunt work for me."

"While you what, go home and fantasize about the Dean of Medicine in your shower?'

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, good luck with that. Call me about the bar later tonight, you should still have my number, unless you managed to lose it since yesterday afternoon."

"Yeah, I put it in my special box, just in case."

"Ugh, I don't want my number touching anything in your 'special box'."

"Do you have to turn _everything _sexual, Dr. Phelps.?"

"Like father, like daughter. See you later." she said as she got up and walked out of the cafeteria.

"See you later." House mumbled after she left. His daughter was the most fun he had had in ages.


	3. Chapter 3

Cuddy walked cautiously into Sherrie's bar, wondering what on earth had possessed her to make her come there. She rarely went to bars, on the rare occasion that she did, it was always because something had gone wrong in her life. But no, she was here, on a night before work, for no particular reason. Sure, a few martinis were always nice, but she had work to do, and calling the baby-sitter last minute wasn't really something she would normally do, especially since she had lied to her and said that she had an emergency to take care of at the hospital. She was here now though, so she took a seat at the bar and ordered a dry martini, still pondering why she had decided to go out alone that night.

Peals of hysterical laughter interrupted her quiet thoughts; looking over she saw a group of familiar people sitting at a table a few feet away from her. She wondered why she hadn't noticed the group before, but she must have been consumed by her own thoughts.

"Wilson?" she asked, noticing the handsome oncologist looking over at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, House wanted to take me and Holly out for a couple of drinks." he replied, gesturing to House and his amused looking daughter.

"He's paying for them?"

"Yeah, he is, actually. Why don't you come join us, you shouldn't be sitting alone."

Reluctantly Cuddy got up, between House, Wilson, and House's newfound daughter, she was sure that bad things would happen.

"What are _you_ doing here, Cuddles?" House asked, blunt as always. "Surely you need to be home to feed your little parasite."

"I called a sitter for _Rachael, _and I do go to bars sometimes, House, my life doesn't only consist of my work."

"Let me guess, you asked some lame pretty boy out on a date and he stood you up, so you came here to drown your sorrows."

"Do I look like I'm sad, House?" No, she didn't; in fact, Cuddy looked hotter than ever.

"Not especially. But I suspect it's just 'cause you're in the presence of perfection." House said, pointing to himself.

"I didn't realize you thought so highly of Wilson." she shot back at him.

"Actually, I was talking about myself, but if you wanted to hit on Wilson, by all means, go ahead."

"He doesn't mean that, Dr. Cuddy." Phelps cut in. "He just doesn't want to know that he wants you to think that he's perfect."

"Always ruining the tender moments, aren't you _Holly._" House had made a point of calling his daughter Holly since she had called him on it.

"Yes, I'm even better at it than you, _Gregory_."

"Well, I can see that you two bonded quickly." Cuddy remarked, amused that House had found another friend. He did really only have two, her and Wilson.

"Oh yeah, that's one of the genes we share, ability to relate to people."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty good at it." She actually was, well, when she was dealing with children and teenagers. Adults weren't willing to open up enough, so she often found herself yelling at her clients when they didn't cooperate. It was these types of actions that got her fired at the last four hospitals, and finally convinced her that she needed a job working with children.

"You probably don't relate to people, you just tolerate them."

"Well, I kind of have to relate to people if I'm a psychologist." Phelps retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Ugh, will you guys stop arguing for a few minutes? You're just like House and Cuddy." Wilson groaned, ready for another round of drinks that he was sure that he would need.

"Ugh, I don't want to be like House and Cuddy, that's sick!" Phelps shouted, way too loudly. She looked at Wilson with a look of total outrage. "That means that there's an inhuman amount of sexual tension between me and my own father! God, Wilson, where do you come up with these ideas?"

"I learned from the king of inappropriate thoughts." Wilson muttered, looking meaningfully at House. He had taken to staring at the ceiling after his child's comments about 'an inhuman amount of sexual tension'. Cuddy was doing much the same thing; she seemed to be highly interested in the fingernails of her left hand.

"Aww, I think I embarrassed them." Phelps cooed, looking at the pair of people who were sitting together and yet had moved as far apart from each other as possible while still sitting on the bar stools. "I'm sorry Lisa, I often speak uncomfortable truths when it pisses me off that people don't recognize it." That was at least a serious comment; she really did have a knack for speaking the truth when other people didn't want to address it. That was another reason she got fired from Real Job #3, she had told her boss that she and the head janitor just needed to screw already, it was getting ridiculous. In her defense, the goo-goo eyes moments between the woman who wrote her paychecks and the ridiculously sexy sanitation engineer were getting too hard to bear. Unfortunately, her boss was a woman of tradition and rules, and it was most definitely not appropriate to shout about your boss's sex life from the top of the balcony in the front entrance.

"Well, I should have expected as much from House's spawn." Cuddy said, trying to pretend that there wasn't an ounce of truth to her statement. Unfortunately, there were several ounces of truth.

"Hey, don't blame me if the kid has a smart mouth!" House told her "I just provided the sperm, then I was out of there."

"Oh yeah, the sperm _only_ provides half the DNA." Cuddy said, rolling her eyes.

"So was this a one night stand kind of a thing?" she asked House, curious about what kind of sexual adventures the sixteen year old version of the man she loved to hate had got up to.

"Well apparently," Phelps started, "My mom spotted him at a party,"

"I was looking pretty fine that night." House cut in.

"Anyway, according to her, she saw the most amazing pair of blue eyes." she continued, batting her own pair. "So she just _had _to go and talk to him, and of course, this being a high school party, there was a little too much beer in everyone's system, so of course talking turned to flirting, which turned to kissing, which turned to groping while shoving their tongues down each other's throats, which turned to fun things in the bedroom!"

"Sounds about right." House commented.

"So you screw her, she gets pregnant, and you just leave her?" Wilson asked.

"Uh, no, I screw her, two days later I move with my family to follow Daddy's new job. Never hear from her again."

"So how did you even know that her name was Olivia Phelps?"

"Well, everyone knew who Olivia Phelps was, she was the head cheerleader. My friends were pretty impressed that I managed to score the hottest, most desirable girl in school in my second week of grade eleven."

"Anyway, your mother just raised you alone?" Cuddy asked Phelps, trying to steer the conversation away from House's sexual conquests.

"Yeah, I grew up with my grandparents, who were also pretty young."

"So how did you learn about me? You mom didn't really have too much information about me."

"Whenever I asked about my father, she always told me that she shared one magical night with the 'finest piece of sixteen year old man'." Phelps answered, rolling her eyes at what she obviously thought was an exaggeration. "I mean come on, you two must have been plastered out of your minds, the sex couldn't have been that great."

"I wasn't that plastered." House said, thinking back to the night when he had lost his virginity. It had been the most amazing thing he had ever experienced at the time, and he couldn't believe that he hadn't done it before. But it was kind of hard to get girls to sleep with you the night they meet you at that age. He never really stuck around in one place enough to get to know anyone. But the party scene, that was the one thing that gave him a good time when he had to move from place to place to follow his father. "And I could tell that she wasn't really drunk either, it must have just been my magnetic personality." Cuddy thought about what a teenage House would be like. Probably just as cocky as he was now, though of course without any addiction problems.

"Fantasizing about my sixteen year old self, Cuddy?" House asked her, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"No." she muttered. If there was any fantasizing about him to be done, it would be with the version of him that was sitting beside her. God, that stubble turned her on.

"I think we need another round of drinks." Wilson told them, wanting to get out of the awkward conversation. Phelps really had a knack for making things awkward, just like her father.

"Yeah, that would be great." Cuddy said, happy for the interruption.

"You want a beer?" Phelps asked.

"Sure. What the hell."

"Oh, look's like Cuddy's finally breaking out of her shell. A _beer_. Never thought I'd see the day."

"I drank beer all the time back in Michigan." Cuddy retorted. It was true. Beer was one of her favourite things back in university, but she had become more of a wine person as she grew up.

"Oh, I remember that, we did quite a lot of fun things with beer back then." House winked at her.

"You went to school together?" Phelps asked. If there was history between them… oh there was bound to be history between them. She already knew the story behind his leg, but university stories were sure to be more exciting.

"Oh yeah, Cuddles was quite attached to me back then, weren't you?" Cuddy blushed; she really had been quite into House, although she would never admit it, it would only inflate his already over large ego.

"Well, you were a bit nicer back then." she said, which wasn't entirely true. He hadn't been nice, he had still been bitter, he just wasn't an addict.

"True. But I still have that smokin' hot bod you finally gave into that one night on your desk." Cuddy blushed still deeper.

"You guys had sex on her desk?" Phelps asked, even more amused than before. These two would be more fun to play with than she imagined.

"Yup! Then she broke up with me the next day." House added, glaring at Cuddy.

"Well, you were leaving the next week; I thought that it would have been best just to break it off."

"Yeah, you're right, a few days of misery was much better than what ever would have happened if you had let me have a few more days of happiness." House said, sounding surprisingly serious and bitter.

"Okay, you two, break it up. This happened what, twenty years ago?" Phelps interjected, not wanting to get into a lover's quarrel, not that House and Cuddy would admit that they were lovers.

"You don't get points for getting that right, daughter dearest, I already told you I slept with her twenty years ago."

"Do I need to remind you of the comment that prompted that response from you?" she asked, knowing that House would not need reminding, but that Wilson would be curious about it.

"No." House muttered. Having an adult daughter who liked to have soda drinking contests with you was great, but not when she was constantly bothering you about your more than professional feelings for your boss.

"Well I think I'd like to hear it." Wilson said.

"Well, I think you don't need to." House said testily. Oh, the things his daughter would say under the influence.

"Cuddy had just walked out of the door," Phelps started, unabashed as ever, "And so I told House that if he didn't tap that, I totally would, platonically speaking of course," she added at the look on Cuddy's face, "And House of course replied that he already had, then revealed that said tapping had occurred twenty years ago. _Boring_. So I asked him if he'd want to-"

"I think you've said enough, offspring." House cut in, not really ready for the conversation to turn to that direction. Curse his genetics; his daughter was just as good at making people uncomfortable as he was.

"I don't think she has." Wilson said, amused at how pissed off House was looking. He was probably wondering why on earth he had invited her out drinking with him. It would have been harmless fun, except Cuddy had chosen that night to make her uncharacteristic appearance at the bar.

"Anyway, I asked him if he'd want to sleep with her again, to which the answer was 'well, duh'. Quite honestly, I don't understand why the two of you haven't gotten married or something, there's chemistry exploding out of your every pore." Phelps laughed at the expressions on both House and Cuddy's faces; they both looked as if they were trying to materialize themselves out of the bar by staring at the same bottle of vodka. They even avoided each other the same way.

"Don't you love awkward social situations, Wilson?" she asked House's best friend, who was quietly chortling at the situation. Oh, she should have come along ages ago; Holly Phelps was the most fun he had had in ages. Too bad she was a lesbian. But it was great to have another 'guy' to hang out with besides House, even if this one wore size 34 B.

"Definitely. It's almost midnight, House, do you want to leave?"

"Huh?"

"Midnight. Need leave now you." Wilson explained as House snapped out of reverie.

"Yeah. Probably should leave." he muttered quietly, still silently fuming at his daughter.

"Yeah, I guess you boys should head home, you need to get enough sleep so you can be _on time_ for work tomorrow." Phelps smirked at House. Oh, he was going to get her tomorrow for sure, but taunting him and Cuddy had been way too much fun.

"Yeah, being on time for work is definitely on of House's greatest priorities." Cuddy said, deciding to join the conversation. She was still feeling a bit awkward after Phelps had so casually discussed her relationship with House, but she should probably be getting home too.

"Well, it certainly helps me get in good with the boss."

"Oh please, you don't need to do anything to get it good with her, you just need to bat your baby blues and she focuses of trying not to jump you rather than killing you." Phelps rolled her eyes. It was _way_ too damn obvious.

"True, I do have that rather useful talent. But it works on everyone, even Wilson."

"Ugh, I do not want that picture in my head." Cuddy said.

"That didn't need to be dirty, Cuddles. Someone obviously has some repressed sexual energy."

"Maybe because I haven't gotten any in a while because _someone _keeps interrupting my dates." she retorted; being drunk she was able to admit to more than usual.

"So you _haven't _been using the same escort service as me. I must have just seen someone there who looks like you, must have been from the office role playing."

"Are you saying she dresses like a prostitute?" Phelps asked. They had gotten to arguing, this was good.

"Have you seen what she wears to work? It's a minor miracle that her breasts haven't popped out of her shirt at least once."

"House, if you don't stop making inappropriate comments on my wardrobe I'll-"

"You'll what, fire me? You couldn't fire me even if you wanted to; I'm too valuable to your precious hospital." That pretty much silenced Cuddy, but she still looked at House angrily.

"Damn it, I think I broke her. Maybe it's time to get Partypants home before she completely shuts down."

"Good idea, I'll call the cab." Wilson said, getting off his stool and walking off to the payphone.

"Guess someone forgot his cell phone." House said to Phelps.

"Oh, stop trying to change the subject."

"From what, we weren't even talking before."

"You know what I mean. You've been looking at Cuddy all night when you thought no one was looking, just freaking ask her out already!"

"Uh, Dr. Phelps, I think the Cuddy in question can hear you speaking." House whispered loudly, looking over at Cuddy who had taken to examining her fingernails again.

"Right. Say Dr. Cuddy, don't you think that you and my father should just go out already?"

"That's a ridiculous idea. House and I would never work." Cuddy said, almost as if from heart.

"You just keep telling yourself that, and I'm sure everything will work out for you."

"Come on, just drop it." House said, looking over at Cuddy who looked angrier than ever.

"Fine, for now. But I will get you two together, even if I have to work at it for months."

"Great, you've also inherited my stubbornness." House grumbled, looking over at Wilson. "What the hell is taking him so long?"

""I dunno. Maybe the cabs are all booked up. I have a car; I can drive us all home."

"Yeah right, you've had more beers than me and Wilson out together."

"I know, I wasn't really being serious."

The pair sat and waited for Wilson to come back, while Cuddy furiously examined her fingernails. No, not a good idea to go the bar that night, but the worst she thought would happen was some ugly drunk trying to hit on her. Not House's daughter trying to set them up.

"The cab's coming in ten." Wilson said as he sat back down at the table, nearly missing the stool.

"Sweet." House said. "Oh come on, Cuddy, you don't have to be all pissed off. It's not like my sweet, innocent daughter embarrassed _you_."

"I embarrassed you?" Phelps said, sweetly and innocently.

"No." he mumbled.

"Well I hope I didn't hurt your feelings." she said.

"No, but I think you might have hurt Cuddy's. Look at her, she's practically crying." House said, gesturing to where Cuddy was glaring at them.

"Oh, well, my bad. Just thought you and Wilson needed a bit more information about House's feelings."

"Yeah, well they didn't."

"So you actually admit that you have feelings? That's cute. I'm glad we made progress, now about that date with Cuddy…"

"Oh shut up, Holly, can't you tell you're making the Dean of Medicine uncomfortable?"

"No, she looks more pissed than uncomfortable. Although she might be pissed because she's uncomfortable."

"You know, you can't keep talking to your boss like that. I'm the only one invaluable enough to do that. You might get your ass fired."

"Actually, I'm pretty invaluable. I've helped dozens of kids through some pretty tough shit since I got here, and I've convinced several to do treatment that they didn't want to do."

"Well, get someone to give you a medal then." House replied.

"Cab's here." Wilson called. Finally they could go home and Wilson could get rid of the headache that House had given him. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that he had two women to argue with now.

"Well, let's go. You coming Cuddy, or are you just going to sit there telling yourself that Dr. Phelp's a dirty, horrible liar?"

"I'm coming." she mumbled again, wondering for the thousandth time why she had decided to go to the bar that night. She was sure to have one hell of a hangover the next day, but at least she would have three other people at the hospital to share it with.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, you having fun with my daughter?" House asked Wilson as he stepped into his office, wondering why on earth his best friend was sitting behind his desk when he had other more important things to do, like throwing his stupid tennis ball up in the air in his own office.

"Uh, yeah." Wilson said cautiously, wondering where House was going with this, hoping it wasn't in _that _direction.

"Says in your daybook that you're having lunch with her tomorrow." House said, pointing to a page in the offending planner.

"Yeah, that's generally what friends do, have lunch with each other." No, he couldn't possibly be going _that _way, could he?  
"Ah, I get it; you're having a _friends _lunch. Why wasn't I invited? You know how much it hurts me when I'm not included." He pouted at Wilson, which just him to sigh exasperatedly. Yes, he was going in that direction. Fabulous. Wilson knew there was virtually no way to get him into a different topic, but maybe some argument would work.

"Well maybe you should start _including _yourself in clinic duty."

"And maybe you should stop deflecting. You _like _her. If she wasn't batting for the other team, you would have put the moves on her, big time. But since she's a lesbian, you've decided to play the friends card and get to know her more before turning on the real charm and fantastically convince her that she's actually selectively bisexual."

"I- that's ridiculous, House, I don't _like _her, I just like spending time with her. I, unlike you, don't have to want to screw a woman to spend time with them."

"Wilson, are you implying something about me and all the women I've spent time with in the past?" House frowned at him, laughter dancing in his eyes.

"No, definitely not, you in no way shape or form want to get in Cuddy's pants."

"So we've moved on to Cuddy now, have we? I thought we were discussing you and your unhealthy desire to nail your best friend's daughter."

"Oh, you want to talk about unhealthy desires? You shouldn't even talk about unhealthy desires, Mr. _I'm too much of a druggie to work up the nerve to go out with the woman who I refuse to believe would have me because I'm such a druggie._"

"Oh, be quiet Wilson, you can't have my daughter. Believe me; she's so gay she can't even watch guys kissing in movies." Well, she wasn't _that _gay, but House didn't want Wilson going anywhere near his daughter. Though of course he would tell anyone else that it was just because he was protecting Wilson, he had been feeling, well, _paternal _towards her in the few short weeks that he had known her. Wilson trying to pursue her would only screw her up, and if his convoluted plan of winning her homosexual heart _actually_ worked, well, he did NOT want to go to the wedding of the fourth Mrs. Wilson.

"Look, House, we're just going out for lunch as friends, and we would have invited you too, as we have the other seven times we've gone out for lunch together, but you keep turning us down. If you're so damn worried about me trying to nail her, come with us for once." He and Phelps had actually gone out more than seven times, several outside of work, actually. But he didn't want his best friend to know that he was falling for her, hard. Besides, he would just mock him for seeing her so much in just two weeks; he had only had three days when he didn't see her. And, of course, there was that nagging little detail of her not being into his gender. Though he would never admit that House was right about him thinking that he could just magically make her attracted to males, that really was his plan with all the meals together.

"Well, maybe I'll come with you. Where are you going?"

"That new four star French restaurant that just opened up by my place." Wilson lied, wanting to make it sound as unappealing to House as possible. In reality, they were just going to grab burgers, but House couldn't know that.

"Do I have to pay for myself?" House asked, already wincing at the imaginary prices for such a place.

"Well, yes, Holly and I pay for ourselves." Also not strictly true, Wilson somehow always managed to foot the bill, claiming that he was used to it because of House.

"Oh, you're calling her Holly now? What's next, sweetie-puss?"

"No, I call her by her _name, _unlike her father who just calls her Dr. Phelps, which, I admit, is getting a little weird." Phelps had confided this particular detail to him a few lunches ago.

"Uh-huh. You just keep telling yourself that you're just friends, and I'm sure it will all work out."

"Yeah, because that's working so well with you and Cuddy." Wilson retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Strange how you always drift back to me and Cuddy, almost as if you're trying to live vicariously through us." House said wistfully, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Strange how you always change the subject when I bring it up." Wilson replied, determined to move on from the blossoming 'friendship' between him and his best friend's daughter and on to the most annoyingly painful non-relationship in the world.

"Actually I think it's you who keeps changing the subject." House said, grabbing his cane and getting up out of Wilson's chair. "I think I'll leave you to ponder what the wise man has said to you, my apprentice."

"Ha, you trying to mentor me in relationships." Wilson scoffed. "That's going to work, Mr. _I'm no good for anyone, so I might as well give up on commitment for the rest of my drug shortened life._"

"Well, at least I haven't had three failed marriages. Maybe Dr. Phelps is right, maybe you're gay. In that case, I better get out of here, because _no one_ can resist my charms, especially not homosexual men."

"Right." Wilson said, rolling his eyes as House walked out of the room. "Not even the Dean of Medicine." he muttered. There was one other reason he was excited for his lunch with Phelps tomorrow, other than the fact that he had lunch with Phelps. They were going to plan the ultimate hook up, the ultimate plan to get House and Cuddy together for good. And if it didn't work, well, then that was it.

"Hello, dear daughter!" House called out as he walked into the cafeteria, causing several people to look at his strangely and mutter their suspicions to their lunch companions. "What's got you down?" he added upon seeing the empty look on her face. "Your girlfriend not know who Xena the Warrior Princess was for role play?"

"No." she laughed angrily, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes. "I won't need to worry about her bedroom preferences now, she broke up with me. By text message, actually, would you like to see?" Without waiting for an answer, she shoved the phone under House's nose. He could just barely make out the words (if you could even call them words) 'Lk, idk if uve ntcd bt ur spndng 2 mch tme w/Wilson n i dnt thnk u spnd enuf tme w/me n i dnt wnna b th 2nd fddl so im jst guna nd ths.' It was pathetic really; if these were her relationship standards then the lesbian dating pool obviously didn't have many options. He didn't say that, of course, choosing to go directly into what interested him.

"So she broke up with you over _Wilson_?"

"Yes." she said defiantly, challenging him to say what they were both thinking.

"Interesting." He looked at her, pretending to be mildly intrigued, when they both knew that there was something he was itching to say.

"Oh, go on, say it, I'm sure you've noticed it as well I have. Wilson obviously LIKES me."

"Fine. Wilson _likes_ you." He grinned happily at Phelps, which just caused her to roll her eyes.

"Yes, god, he's entertaining some romantic notions of me, which I sincerely hope have not turned into fantasies, gloat all you want."

"Oh, knowing Wilson they most definitely have." She glowered at him.

"Oh, don't give me the 'heterosexual relationships sicken me' look"

"Well, I'm sorry but I'm not exactly keen on Wilson mooning over me. Usually when I tell guys straight up that I'm a lesbian they just back off." House grinned at her again, obviously the two weeks she had spent with his best friend had not told her enough about him.

"Well, Wilson doesn't exactly pay much attention to reality when it comes to relationships. Trust me; it doesn't surprise me in the least that he's decided to ignore the fact that you're a lesbian."

"Great, what the hell am I supposed to do now?" she said exasperatedly.

"Well, have you been enjoying the cozy little lunches with him?"

"Yeah, it's just like being with one of the girls." House laughed. One of the girls. He would be sure to use that one against Wilson sometime.

"So you want to still be friends."

"Well yeah, it's not like I want to lose two people in one week. And since when were you one to offer relationship advice?" House sighed. His work was never appreciated. Granted, he had never found the need to meddle into people's romantic lives, but… no, that wasn't strictly true, he was one to meddle into people's romantic lives to make sure they ended what would inevitably finish in failure.

"Just be grateful that I'm not leaving you out on your own to navigate the stormy waters of James Wilson's heart. Just confront him and tell him that you have no interest whatsoever in seeing him naked anytime soon."

"Oh yeah, that'll work. Sounds like a really good plan." she said sarcastically. "Hi Wilson, thanks for coming for burgers with me, by the way, I'm super not interested in penises, especially not ones attached to you, so if you could stop staring at my chest, that would be great. I hopewe can_ still be friends._"

"Look, _I'll_ talk to him, even though I'm sure the conversation will be long and painful and at least 50% him chastising me about Cuddy." This would be a big sacrifice for him, talking about _feelings, _but he would be sure to deliver it with a healthy dose of mockery, as usual. "Wait, did you say you were going out for burgers?"

"Yeah, we've gone for burgers pretty much every day since we met."

"He said you were going to some fancy-ass French place… and he said that you've gone to at least seven different places… oh god, this is worse than I thought, he really is putting the moves on you."

"What do you mean?" Phelps asked quickly. She knew that he liked her, but not that much. Then again, she didn't really have much experience with men and didn't know when the friendliness stopped.

"Well, if you go for burgers at lunch, how'd you end up at seven different places?"

"We've gone for dinner too." she mumbled quietly, more than a little embarrassed. She hadn't thought that seeing each other _that _frequently was weird for two friends, but apparently her ex-girlfriend had spotted it. Oh god, she couldn't be falling for a _guy_, could she? Sure, she felt some extent of flutteriness when she saw him, but that didn't mean anything, did it? There wasn't anything weird about a lesbian woman seeking out his face in a crowd, was there?

"And…" House urged, knowing that there was more, he had also looked at Wilson's plans for Saturday morning.

"And we went for breakfast last weekend."

House grinned. Oh, he had her good.

"So you've gone out for dinner with him how many times?"

"Eight." She mumbled, pushing her pile of creamed corn around on her plate.

"Eight times in fifteen days." House said slowly. "And you knew the answer right away, which means you've been counting, which means you've been thinking about this 'friendship.'"

"So?"

"So you're beginning to wonder if you're more bendy straw than accordion."

"Dude. Not. Into. Men."

"Yeah, that's just what you want to keep thinking. This confuses you, that someone who's a _guy_ is spending time with you and actually _taking an interest_. Usually males just piss of when you tell them you're a lesbian, but not wonder boy oncologist. He actually likes YOU. And you don't know how you're going to deal with that, because you're so damn confident in your sexuality than you don't know what to do with an honest to god GUY."

"I know how-"

"No, you don't. Sure, you have the occasional guy to drink with, but they just end up hitting on you eventually. Much better just to stick with the girls, you know how to deal with them."

"Oh yeah, somehow I got through the field of psychology without knowing how a man's brain works. That makes a lot of sense."

"Oh sure, you know what to tell one of your precious clients. Just get some psychobabble from the latest research paper and you're golden. But things that actually concern you? That's a little too personal. And I have a feeling you don't like to_ get_ personal."

"So what do you suggest I do? Go along with it until I find myself in his bed?'

"No, I suggest you go to lunch with him tomorrow, and let me spy on you."

She rolled her eyes. "Wilson will notice you there, he'll suspect something."

"Well, how else am I supposed to give you the outsider's perspective? I'm not spending money on pinhole cameras."

"Well, you can show up there WITH someone, that isn't suspicious."

"And who do you suggest I bring along to my little stakeout?" House asked dryly; of course this was where it would end up, lately all discussions seemed to end up about him and…

"Cuddy, of course. I'm sure she wouldn't object, spending some quality time with you couldn't be that bad."

"Trust me, it is. And why would I want Cuddles accompanying me on my spy mission?"

"Well, I don't think Wilson would be happy if you intruded on our lunch. He's been really happy that he hasn't had to pay for you in a while."

"My wallet _has_ been getting pretty tight now that I've been financing my own meals. This isn't some perverted plan to get me and Cuddy together, is it?" Of course it was. That seemed to be Phelps' main purpose in life at that moment, getting her father and his boss together.

"That's the condition for spying on me; you have to take Cuddy out for lunch."

"Fine." House grumbled. He guessed it would be worth it.

"Oh-" Phelps started off.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just, never mind."

"Oh come on, what other stupid things do you have to say to me? Suggestions for what type of flowers I should bring her?"

"No, it's just, ugh, never mind, you would say no anyway."

"What?" Phelps was one of the only people that could actually get him interested in something, most of what everyone else said just rolled off his head.

"Well, I kind of don't have a place to stay, so… you get the picture." House weighed the pros and cons in his head. On the one hand, he would have the most entertaining woman ever living with him; on the other hand, he would have someone living with him.

"It wouldn't be a permanent thing, would it?"

"No." she said quickly, trying to hide her relief that she wouldn't have to stay at a hotel. "I'm planning on buying a place soon anyway."

"Well, I guess you could sleep in my living room for a while, if you don't mind me getting drunk and playing my piano for hours."

"Are you kidding me? I would be playing _with_ you!"

"Well, I guess you can come by tonight. You know where my apartment is?"

"No," she said, unable to resist one last jibe before she had to get back to work. "But I'm sure Cuddy does."

"Hey," Phelps said as she walked into Cuddy's office, without knocking, of course. Luckily she was just sorting out paperwork, or she would have gotten her first lecture about manners from the Dean of Medicine.

"Hi…" Cuddy said slowly, wondering what she wanted. Lately every second word from the newest psychologist at the hospital seemed to concern her and a certain stubborn diagnostician. And how they desperately need to bed each other.

"I was wondering where House's apartment was." Hmm, weird question, maybe they had decided to take their binges at the bar to somewhere more private.

"And you think that I know the address off by heart because I go there every night to stare at his door and wonder what it would be like to go through it while kissing him wildly?" Just like with House, the best way to deal with Phelps was through sarcasm.

"Well, yes." Duh. What else could Cuddy possibly do on a Saturday night?

"Why do you need to know?" She did not need another employee showing up to work with a hangover because they were drinking scotch all night.

"I, um, am staying with him now?"

"Really." Cuddy said, amused. There would be no way in hell that House could stand a _female _living with him for more than one night.

"Really. My girlfriend dumped me today, and we were living together, so I kinda needed a place to stay."

"So you asked _House_?" He certainly wouldn't be her first choice.

"Yeah, I figured, since I knew him, and he's my father-_ish_, his apartment would be a good place to stay."

"And he let you?" Cuddy asked, amused. The House she knew didn't let anyone near him; certainly not a thirty four year old woman who happened to be a psychologist.

"Well, yeah. I think I'm a lot more fun than most people to have around, to him at least."

Yeah, Cuddy was sure that House appreciated Phelps' unique brand of humour, and knew she wouldn't mind him doing what ever the hell he did when he was alone.

"Okay, I can write it down for you." Cuddy took out a memo pad and scribbled down his address, hoping that Phelps knew what she was doing.

"Thanks." Phelps said as she took the piece of paper. "Oh, and by the way, House wants to take you out for lunch tomorrow." Cuddy looked at her suspiciously. No way was she going to let her jaw drop like it wanted to when the woman delivering the unexpected news couldn't be trusted.

"Really?" she asked, in an 'I really couldn't care less' voice, when, in reality, alarm bells were going off in her head. Lunch, with House? Like, a _date_ date lunch? Where, when, why? Surely Phelps was just messing with her; House would never willingly take anyone on a date.

"Yup. Of course," she added, rolling her eyes, "It's just so that he can spy on me and Wilson when we go out for lunch."

"Wait, you and Wilson are going _out_? I thought you weren't into men." Just where had she been in the past few days; no one told her anything anymore.

"We're not. We've just been seeing a lot of each other in the last two weeks, so House seems to think that Wilson's into me, and unfortunately, I can't help but agree with him." Cuddy laughed, she couldn't help it, leave it to Wilson to fall for a lesbian.

"So why do I have to go with him?"

"I said he could only spy on us, to get an 'outsider's perspective' on our lunch if he brought you."

"So this is some horrible plan to get us together." Naturally.

She didn't think she needed to mention her and Wilson's disastrous attempt at getting them trapped in an elevator together. Luckily she and House had automatically figured out what the pair was up to, and were able to step out of the elevator, locking Phelps and Wilson in there together for half an hour. She had to hand it to the woman though, she sure had networking skills. Apparently her ex-girlfriend had known one of the engineers and she was able to get him to shut down the elevators. Unfortunately she had no way of communication with him, so she and Wilson had been stuck in the elevator for quite a while. Being in close proximity to her probably hadn't helped Wilson push aside his blossoming feelings for her.

"Well, maybe, maybe not. House will probably be too focused on me and Wilson to pay any attention to you, but I have to take any chances I get. A day when you're not sleeping with House is a day that I've failed."

"Great." Cuddy said, rolling her eyes, "Well, I guess I'll go with House to spy on you and Wilson tomorrow, just to see Wilson acts around you when no one's looking." She and House could certainly have some laughs over that.

"Meet him at the burger joint at quarter after twelve tomorrow. And make sure you get a table far away from us that had a good view. I'll probably be able to distract Wilson, but you never know."

"Well, if that's all you have to discuss, I do have a meeting to go to…"

"Ah, yes, of course, _Dr. Cuddy_." Phelps smiled at her; it was funny how she needed to go back into professional mode to get control of herself.

Phelps turned to leave, making sure that she had the sheet of paper with House's address on it.

"Oh, and Dr. Phelps?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to come into work drunk with House tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll try." She smirked at her boss, then walked out of her office and to the elevators. In two short weeks, she had already been caught up in a considerable amount of relationship drama. She only hoped that lunch tomorrow would take care of both problems, but hoping never really got her anywhere. With her luck, House and Cuddy would end up killing each other and she would somehow have managed to fall in love with Wilson.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Set in pre-Kutner, post-Rachael season five.**_

"Pizza or Chinese?" House asked Phelps as she walked into his apartment with about a hundred different bags. It was around eight o'clock; she had just driven over from her ex-girlfriend's place and looked a little more than exhausted.

"Pizza." she said, lugging her bags over to the living room where House had miraculously set up a futon.

"What do you want on it?"

"Meat." she replied, unceremoniously dropping her luggage onto the makeshift bed.

"Meat? What kind of answer is that? Don't you want fancy pants toppings like grilled eggplant or marinated artichoke?"

"I want meat. Clary was a vegetarian, so we ate a LOT of tofu. I _need_ meat." House made a face. He couldn't stand tofu.

"What exactly did you see in this 'Clary' anyway? Sounds like a bit of a bimbo." he commented, looking through his drawer for the pizza menu.

"She was damn good in bed." Phelps replied.

"That's all you look for in a girlfriend? _Damn good in bed_?"

"And _you_ look for a deep personal connection in yours?" she retorted.

"Well, see, I actually haven't had a girlfriend in a while, so I don't have many standards. How does this sound: Pepperoni, sausage, ham, steak, onions?"

"Sounds good. If you haven't had a girlfriend in ages, where do you get your strange from? Hookers?"

"Yeah, I know some good ones if you can't get a girl on the rebound." House winked at her. "Or if Wilson's diabolical plan of turning you straight doesn't work."

"I think I can find my own girls, thank you. And would you shut up about Wilson?" "Nope!" House said cheerfully, relishing the look of annoyance on his daughter's face. "It's way too much fun. But I guess I should stop, you'll probably start bugging me about Cuddy."

"Uh huh. You gonna order that pizza?"

"Large, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry tonight." Phelps said casually, as if it was normal for a woman with a small appetite to eat half a large pizza.

"You drink like a man, you eat like a man, you talk like a man. Are you sure you're not a man?"

"Oh yes, very, very sure."

House picked up the phone and ordered the pizza.

"Should be here in twenty minutes." he said after finishing the conversation.

"Awesome."

"Do you need sheets or anything?"

"No, I have my own. I probably wouldn't want to touch any of your linens anyway." She opened one of her travel cases and threw a light green sheet onto the futon, not seeming to care that it was wrinkly and uneven. Next came a pillow in the shape of Bart Simpson's head and an electric green fleece blanket with purple polka dots that looked like it had seen better days.

"That's what you slept in when you lived with your prissy girlfriend?" House asked, looking at the bed things that were as messy as anything he owned.

"No, we had fancy cotton sheets and everything. These are my travel things, I've had this set of stuff since I moved into an apartment in New York."

"How many different places have you lived in?" House asked, realizing he knew almost nothing about his daughter's life before she came to Princeton.

"After I moved out, I went to university, got a degree in psychology, moved to Montana for a job, got fired, moved to Washington for a job, got fired, moved to New York for a job, got fired, moved to Rhode Island for a job, got fired, moved to New Jersey for a job, haven't gotten fired yet." House grinned at her. She seemed to have the same type of track record as her father.

'That's a lot of jobs to get fired from. Did you tell all you patients that they were whining idiots who just needed to get a life?"

"Well, that didn't really work for Real Jobs #1 and #2, so I tried to be a little less caustic, which didn't really work, because I told boss of Real Job #3 she needed to sleep with the janitor, which might have gone a bit better if I hadn't shouted it from the balcony in the front entrance."

"No, she might not have liked that." House said sarcastically, becoming more and more impressed with his daughter as the minutes went by "You were telling a woman to sleep with a man, right? Not a man to sleep with a man?"

"No, I couldn't have cared less if it was a man and a man. But I needed to help the sister out. The sappy eyes they made at each other when they passed each other in the halls were getting really freaking annoying."

"So, you just decided the best way to relieve the sexual tension was to shout it for the entire hospital to hear?"

"Yeah, pretty much. And don't worry, that's not what I'm planning with you and Cuddy. I really don't want to get fired from this job; it's getting harder and harder to get hired because of my history. "

"Yeah, four firings under your belt, that's pretty impressive. What about job #4?"

"I may or may not have had an affair with the Dean of Medicine's daughter." she said innocently, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a secret lesbian relationship with your bosses' daughter."

"And she was how old?" House asked, suspecting that he didn't really want to know, but he wanted to see how much like himself his spawn was.

"Nineteen." she replied, unfazed. House looked at her incredulously. "Oh come on, like you haven't had sex with someone fourteen years younger than you. Probably a lot more than fourteen years younger than you, you're what, forty-seven?"

"Forty-nine, actually, and I don't think we need to lecture each other about our sexual habits."

"Hmm. You're pretty good looking for your age, and I can say that because I have no interest in men whatsoever which makes it uncreepy."

"Right. No interest in any Wilsons either." House laughed silently at the look on his daughter's face.

"House. Drop it. Not. Interested."

"Oh shit, you're _mad _now. Guess I shouldn't have brought it up; what're you gonna do?"

"I have some nasty tricks up my sleeves. Believe me; you do not want to mess with Holly Phelps. I can and will kick your physical and metaphorical ass." House decided he didn't want to find out what kind of revenge his offspring could come up with.

"Fine, I'll drop it, for _now_. But after I collect all the data from tomorrow's lunch, you're going to be in mocking hell. If Wilson acts like _that _around you when you two are with me, I don't want to know what kind of moves he puts on you when you're in some cozy little restaurant alone together."

"Alone together? Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"Oh, quit changing the subject. You wanna watch some TV?"

"Now who's changing the subject?"

"Why would I want to change the subject? It was going in my favour; you were getting uncomfortable, I was getting information about your feelings for him. I want to watch the L Word." Phelps glared at him. "Oh sorry, was my choice of programming offensive?"

"No, I just thought you were mocking me. I forgot that guys got turned on my chicks making out with each other."

"It's a universal truth. Unless said making out is done by their daughter and another girl, in which case, it would be creepy." She smirked at him.

"Fine, we'll watch the L Word, even if they're only doing reruns now."

"I know, it's a shame, they really shouldn't have cancelled it. What will the world do without the twisted relationships of the Los Angeles lesbian community?"

"I honestly don't know." Phelps said solemnly as they watching television together on the couch, resting their feet on the futon.

The pizza man came about ten minutes later. House carried the box over to the couch and he and his offspring ate it out of it while watching TV. _I could get used to this,_ House thought as his daughter made yet another comment about some woman's ass. Unfortunately, the program ended all too quickly, and there wasn't much on after that.

House got up and found his favourite scotch.

"You want a glass?" he asked as he looked through his cupboards for something to put his drink in.

"Nah, Cuddy specifically ordered me not to get drunk with you."

"Oh, well, if _Cuddy _tells you not to get drunk, you can't." House said, rolling his eyes at her as he poured himself a healthy portion of scotch.

"Fine." Phelps said, getting up and locating her own glass. She proceeded to pour herself an equally large glass of the drink and sat herself down next to her father on the piano bench.

"You play?" he asked her as she looked at the piano with an indefinable expression.

"No. But my mother used to." she said sadly.

"Is she-"

"Yeah, she's dead. Wasn't exactly number one mom. Overdosed on heroin four years ago." She looked into House's blue eyes, but he was silent. "She was very talented, she could really sing and play, but she was into a lot of heavy drugs. I had to cope with it for so many years; I guess that's why I'm not freaked out about your addiction. I guess it's also why I wanted to go into psychology; I wanted to help people who didn't know how to fix their problems. I could never fix hers. It was always something to do with a man, whether it was her dealer, an abusive boyfriend, or some guy she met on the street who thought she was a prostitute. My grandparents tried to shield me from all of the shit she got into, but I wasn't a stupid kid. I still miss her, sometimes. When she wasn't high, she always had things to teach me about life. But that's gone now."

"I'm sorry." House muttered, unsure and awkward as always in these situations.

"Don't be. You only knew her for a night." She didn't say anything after that, so House started to play to break the silence. He played a solemn melody that Phelps recognized but couldn't quite place; she took a gulp of scotch to calm her nerves. He was better than her mother had been; there was just something about the way his fingers danced across the keys that mesmerized her and sent shivers up her spine. He finished the song and looked at her. She was angry to find that there were tears in her eyes.

"That was… amazing." she said quietly.

"It's one of my many talents." House replied. He started to play a different tune, this time one that Phelps could recognize. She soon found herself singing along with him to the Beatles' _Let It Be_, her strong and clear voice contrasting perfectly with House's low and emotional tones. They moved from _Hey Jude _to _I Wanna Hold Your Hand _to _Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds _to _Strawberry Fields Forever _to _You've Got To Hide Your Love Away _to _Yesterday _and finally to _Here Comes The Sun._

"_Here comes the sun," _Phelps sang, trying to keep her voice from cracking, _"Here comes the sun." _

"_And I say," _House sang with her, playing along delicately on his piano, _"It's all right,"_

"_It's all right." _Her voice finally broke and tears slipped down her face, tears that she had left uncried for too long. She felt an unexpected arm around her shoulders and looked up to see House's clear blue eyes staring down at her own pair. They were as unreadable as always, but she knew he was hiding his emotions, that he was trying to hold back his own set of tears. She instinctively buried her head in his chest as a new set of sobs overcame her, and remembered crying like that into her grandfather's chest when she had flown back to her hometown for her mother's funeral. House wrapped his arms tighter around his daughter, and she could have sworn that she felt a drop of moisture fall into her hair.

It wasn't all right. Nothing in the world was alright, and it never would be. People would die, people would get sick and never get better, people would get themselves into situations that they couldn't get themselves out of. It was the way of human life. But sometimes she wished that George Harrison's words could be true, and everything could be all right, if only for a few moments. But even though she had just been through a breakup and still had the wounds from her mother's death, she had gained a friend, maybe not the greatest friend one could ask for, but one who knew what she was going through and could give her the facts straight.

House didn't know what the tears on his face were doing there, but he had a strange feeling in his chest, one that seemed to constrict his breathing and made him unable to do anything except hold onto this new part of his life. _I like comforting her, _he realized. He, the ultimate champion of non-compassionates everywhere, was enjoying being a parent. He had somehow managed to _care _for her in the short weeks that he had known her. She was like a piece of him, and somehow that thought made everything in his life seem a little better.

House hadn't wanted to become a father because he was afraid of turning into some version of the man who had raised him. He hadn't wanted to raise a bitter, hating child, like the one he had been. He had managed to not trust himself to control the way someone's life was shaped. Holly Phelps was a blessing, really; she was a strong, intelligent, witty and wise woman who was able to take care of herself. Her life was riddled with tragedy and hardship, but like him, she had been able to work through it, relying on her intelligence and sharp wit to get her through the things she couldn't deal with. But she was different from him, she was compassionate when it counted, and was able to show it. He was proud of her, he was proud to say that she was his spawn, and more than anything there was a part of him that he couldn't ignore that was happy she had shown up in his empty life.

After Phelps finished crying, she removed herself from her father's arms and swallowed the rest of her scotch in one go. Singing and playing together had been such an emotional affair for both of them; it had been the first time in a long time that either of them had felt such an intense connection.

"I- I think I want to go to sleep now." House nodded at her and got himself up from the piano bench. His mind was still trying to process the things he was feeling, it was as if he was detached from his body and was just watching his half-century old frame walk towards his bathroom.

"Thank you." Her voice was soft, but still carried through the silent apartment.

"For what?"

"For letting me stay with you." And both of them knew that it wasn't just her staying with him in the apartment, she would stay with him for the rest of his life, the thought of her would never leave his mind, not after they had sung the immortal words of the Fab Four together and shared House's best scotch.

She smiled at the thought of lunch tomorrow; now more than ever she was determined to give him a little bit of happiness. Now that they had shared a little piece of their souls with each other, it would be easier to talk; they were on the same page. And maybe she could share with him what she had been trying to hide from herself for years.


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell are you still doing here?" House asked as he stumbled into the living room, not expecting to see his daughter sitting on the couch. It was well after nine, and while _he _didn't care if he was on time for work, he had a sneaking suspicion that her job didn't allow for as much leniency.

"I'm sitting." Phelps answered in a thick voice. It was obvious that she had been crying, and while House had exhibited some sort of comforting behavior the night before, he was too tired and sore to think about what to do with a depressed woman on his couch.

"Well stop sitting." he finally said, a bit more harshly that he would have liked. She looked up at him from between curtains of black hair; her eyes were red-rimmed and smudged with mascara. "Don't you have to be at work, like, _now_?"

"Don't _you_ have to be at work?" she retorted.

"Technically yes, but you know I don't usually show up on time."

"I-…"

"What?" he groaned exasperatedly, forgetting that the last thing a miserable person wanted was an equally miserable person with a short temper trying to figure out what was wrong.

"You're a really horrible parent, you know that?"

"I'm just horrible generally, or so I've heard." House grumbled, sitting down. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I've just been thinking… and crying."

"Why are you _crying_?"

"Look, I kinda haven't told you the truth."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"About _what_?"

"I was assaulted by my mother's boyfriend when I was twenty." she said flatly. House was silent, prompting her to continue. "I had gone downtown to pick my mother up; she had called me saying she was too stoned to drive, so I went down to her boyfriend's house to pick her up. He met me at the door and shoved me against the wall. I tried to fight him off, but… I didn't. I've never looked at men the same way again. The first person I fell in love with was a boy in my English lit class, but he moved away. Then I fell in love with a girl and we had something good for a while, but then my first boyfriend came back and I went to him. We were together for five years, but after I got assaulted by Brian… I couldn't look at him. I couldn't kiss him without the memory of my mother's boyfriend shoving his tongue down my throat. So I went for women. James… is the first man I've been attracted to in thirteen years. And I don't know what to do." House really did not know what to say to that. Unfortunately, parenthood did not come with a free guide to emotional situations.

"Aren't you going to make a heartless and sarcastic comment?" Phelps asked, finally breaking the silence.

"No." House answered, wondering if he should put his arm around her shoulders again. God, why did comforting people have to be so difficult? "Do you like Wilson?"

"I don't know, does faster heartbeats, shallow breathing, strange feelings in the pit of my stomach, joy at the very sight of him, tell you anything?"

"You like him. He likes you. Go screw. It rhymes. It's good."

"If that's the key to life, you and Cuddy would have done the deed a long time ago."

"So are you going to tell Wilson that you're ready to hop on his jock today?"

"In nicer words, yes."

"Do you still need me and Cuddy to 'observe'?"

"Not really, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you're going to come anyway."

"You must be a mind reader! Don't see those everyday." Phelps smiled at him.

"You're just going to use us as an example so you can put the moves on her, aren't you?"

"That's ridiculous." House said, grinning at her.

"You actually have some romantic intentions towards her?"

"Of course not, she's an administrator, she'd eat me alive. I just want to see you and Wilson kiss over the sugar bowl."

"Uh huh. Sure. Are you going to take a shower?"

"Yeah," House answered. "You shouldn't be the one talking about getting ready for work; you've been sitting on the couch all conflicted and stuff all morning."

"Well, I'm going in first!" Phelps shouted and grabbed her stuff, running into the bathroom.

"That's not fair, I'm crippled, I can't outrun you!" House called after her as he heard the shower turn on. He wasn't entirely sure what his plan for lunch was, but he knew that going with Cuddy wasn't just to see Wilson and Phelps. It was time to take the game he played with his boss to the next level.

***************************

"This is a really stupid idea, House." Cuddy said as she glared at the man sitting across from her; he seemed to be more interested in the couple across than diner than in her. Of course, that was understandable as they were not out for lunch together, it was a surveillance mission.

"Spying my idea, you tagging along spawn's idea. Be quiet for five seconds, I can almost hear what they're saying." Cuddy rolled her eyes in amusement. This almost _overprotective_ House was something new to her; he seemed genuinely concerned about his daughter and his best friend's romantic relations. She smiled at the look of concentration on his face; it was the same expression he wore when he was concentrating on a particularly difficult medical puzzle.

"What are they saying?" she asked when house turned back towards her.

"Trivialities, hospital gossip, the _weather_." he answered, almost as if annoyed that they hadn't poured out their deepest feelings for him to lip-read.

"He hasn't professed his undying love for her yet?" Cuddy asked drily, already bored with the lunch. They had long ago finished their meals and were sitting stirring coffee while waiting for something interesting to happen at the table across from them. Wilson and Phelps had been sitting there, chatting and sharing hamburgers for over an hour and a half. She was already over her allotted lunch break, but she needed to see this through. She had seen something in Wilson's face this morning had intrigued her. He seemed like he had been on another planet, a planet where he was planning something big and stupid and romantic.

"No, but he will soon." House replied grimly, shaking Cuddy out of her thoughts.

"You're really worried about this." she commented, noticing how House had hardly taken his eyes and ears off the unusual couple since they had gotten to the diner.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting Wilson to get his poor little heart broken. He insists on seeing her all the time! Dining out with a member of the opposite sex nearly everyday in the two weeks since you've met them with no intentions of sex is not normal."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you can't possibly be friends with someone of another gender without wanting to be them."

"Glad you understand Cuddles. I was worried I wasn't getting to you." House said seriously.

"We're friends." Cuddy said, sounding rather stupider than she would have liked.

"Oh, what an excellent observation. Nobel Prize, Dr. Cuddy, Nobel Prize."

"Doesn't that mean that you want to bed me?" She was just following his logic, nothing about wanting him to admit that he wanted to sleep with her.

"Yet another stunning deduction." Cuddy sat back in her seat with her eyebrows raised.

"Come on, that's old news. Look, Wilson's leaned in closer." House said with a knowing smirk. He had seen this particular move too many times.

"What?" Cuddy forgot about their discussion and looked over at the table where her two employees were sitting. Sure enough, Wilson had leaned in to wipe something off Phelps' face.

"Oh, for the love of god…" House groaned as he watched the pair smile at each other. "Is that a normal reaction for a lesbian to a man hitting on her?"

"I wouldn't know, House, I'm not a lesbian."

"If you're not a lesbian, then how do you resist me?"

"With great effort." she grumbled, rolling her eyes as he smiled. "Oh get over yourself, you're not that spectacular."

'I'm sure the female population would beg to differ."

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"Look, they both went for the napkins and their hands touched!" House said excitedly. Cuddy looked over at the pair; even from a distance she could see Wilson looking at her with a soft glow in his eyes and Phelps blushing a furious shade of red.

"Looks like your daughter has finally given in to the Wilson charms." Cuddy said with a smile.

"See, even a friendship between a man and a woman who aren't supposed to be attracted to each other is impossible." House said as he stared intently at the pair, watching as Wilson took his daughter's hand in his own.

"Oh my god…" he muttered as he furiously read their lips.

"I really like you Holly." House mimicked as Cuddy watched the pair gaze into each other's eyes. Either Wilson was more of a charmer than she thought or Phelps was bisexual. "I really like you too, James." he said in an even higher voice.

"Look, Holly," Cuddy said, rolling her eyes, fully willing to join in the mockery, "I know you probably aren't interested, but the chemistry between us is hard to-"

"Ignore, I know, I didn't think I'd ever feel this way about a man." House finished in a ridiculously high-pitched and girly voice. They collapsed into sniggers as the psychologist and the oncologist leaned into each other and kissed tentatively, before House's daughter grabbed Wilson's shirt and pulled him in closer.

"I guess true love knows no boundaries." House said serenely, "Man, Wilson's getting eaten alive. It looks like she's trying to swallow his face." House was smiling; he looked like he was happy for the first time in a while.

"You _wanted_ them to get together." Cuddy said in amusement.

"Well, not at first. But I talked to Holly this morning."

"You _talked _to someone? Like an actual conversation?"

"I know, it's hard to believe, but I couldn't have open sexual banter with my own child now could I? She was abused by one of her mother's boyfriends when she was twenty, that's why she turned towards women. She had always been attracted to both genders, but after the incident, she was never able to look at men in the same way."

"So she went into psychology to deal with her issues." Cuddy said, realizing that House had just been playing up his indignation at Wilson's pursuit of Phelps during the lunch to throw her off.

"Yeah, her heroin junkie mother, her abusive relationships, her feelings of abandonment. She's a model citizen right now, though."

"She's really good with kids, not so good with adults, like her father." Cuddy smiled at him.

"I _hate_ children." House replied. He really did, they were smelly, needy little toerags.

"Not as much as you hate adults." That was true, it was easier to accept that a child was ignorant than to accept that their parents knew nothing.

"People just generally suck." he said bluntly, and Cuddy couldn't help but agree with him. Sometimes she wished that she didn't have to worry about her reputation, but that was impossible with her job.

"So, now your theory that men and women can't be 'just friends' has been proven." Cuddy commented with a smile as she watched Wilson and Phelps struggle out the door with their lips and hands all over each other.

"Yup. Impossible." House said with a smile, looking Cuddy in the eye.

"So, really, _our_ situation is impossible."

"Oh, it most definitely is." House said as he leaned in towards the Dean of Medicine, whose heart started to beat a little bit faster in her chest as he continued to stare at her; why did his eyes have to be so outrageously blue and gorgeous?

"House," she said firmly as their faces continued to travel towards each other, "Why are you staring at me?"

"Who says _I'm_ staring at _you_?" he replied with a sexy smile, "Maybe I like looking into your eyes, maybe _you're_ staring at _me_."

"Maybe _I_ like looking into _your_ eyes." she challenged, determined to win their little game. She leaned in closer; she could have sworn she heard his breath catch in his throat.

"That would indicate desire." House growled, raising his eyebrows.

"It might." she answered, just as seductively. She licked her lips; he was right, he _was _irresistible. They moved in closer still, their lips just barely touching, causing shivers to crawl up House's spine. He was feeling a lot of new things this week, but it was this powerful feeling of desire that excited him the most. The last time he had felt it was when he had kissed her after she lost Joy. They stared into each other's eyes still more intensely; House could see the haze of lust clouding his boss's eyes, he knew his eyes must have had the same look.

"Are you going to kiss me?" he asked softly against her lips, relishing the electricity that stemmed from the little bits of her skin that touched his mouth.

"I thought _you _wanted to kiss _me_." she replied, looking into his ice blue eyes.

"_You're_ the one who leaned in." he said, somehow closing in just another millimeter, causing just a bit more of their lips to touch.

"I was just following your example." Cuddy said in what House considered to be an extremely sexy voice. "I believe _you_ were the one who first leaned in."

"So I was." he whispered throatily. It took every ounce of her self control and them some to keep her lips where they were. She was still determined to win the game they were playing, but she wondered if the loser was the one who gave up or the one who gave in. Over the years they had toyed with each other, each encounter more daring than the last, but this time she wondered if screwing with her wasn't the object of this game. House grinned into her lips and her eyes sparkled at him in desire, and at that moment, both decided that it shouldn't be a game anymore. At that moment, lips and teeth and tongues and mouths melted together, and they tasted each other at last. At that moment, House realized what he had been missing for the past twenty years, the woman of fire and passion and steel that was caressing his mouth with her tongue was the only woman that could ever satisfy his needs. And at that moment, House realized why Wilson and Phelps had gotten up and left, placing a twenty on the table for their meal, still glued to each other. It was REALLY uncomfortable to make out across a formica diner table. House slowly broke away from her lips and smiled at her from across the table.

"Same time next week?" he asked casually, putting a twenty in the bill tray that must have been placed there by the smirking waitress while they were still kissing.

"Are you asking me out, House?" Cuddy asked him, folding her arms on her chest, unable to conceal the huge grin on her face.

"Well, I probably don't _need_ to, after _that _kiss you'll probably have no problems jumping me." Cuddy raised her eyebrows at that, but found she couldn't disagree. "It's a formality. Although it might make more sense to ask you to dinner, there isn't the problem of returning to work, something tells me that you're not the type to skive off paperwork for an afternoon delight."

"And what makes you say that?" Cuddy asked daringly. Oh, she would pay for this later, but her heart was still pounding, imagine what she would feel like during…

"Sex with your _employee_? On a _work_ day? With _paperwork_ to do? What happened to the Cuddy I know and love?" Cuddy raised her eyes at that.

"I think you may have just uttered the 'L word.'"

"Lesbian? I didn't say anything about lesbians. My _daughter_ obviously isn't a lesbian. Did you see her put her hands on Wilson's-"

"You said you _love _me." Cuddy told him, making sure he hadn't lost it. Gods only knows what would happen if he lost it.

"Did I? Well, everyone knows that." he said nonchalantly.

"Love. L-O-V-E."

"I know how to spell, Cuddy, I _am_ a world renowned diagnostician." House rolled his eyes at her, grinning.

"I'm sorry; I was just a _little_ bit surprised that _you _would admit you loved someone so freely." Cuddy retorted. If she could just wipe that self-serving grin off his face… well, she could think of a few choice ways.

"Shall we?" House asked as he got up out of the booth. Cuddy was still looking at him incredulously. "You're not mad that we're both super late for work, are you? You don't need to be punctual _all _the time."

"You actually LOVE me?" she asked.

"Yes, god, can we stop with the mooning and get on with the spooning?" Cuddy smiled at him.

"My place or yours?" she asked with a devilish grin on her face. House winked at her.

"Mine."

"I'll call in sick."

"What about me? I'm sure the team can put two and two together. I did hire them for their puzzle-solving skills, although I haven't seen too much of that."

"You can call in sick on your own phone."

"Do I call your office?"

"Yes, but not at the same _time_."

"Well I'll just wait for you then."

"I've waited for you for twenty years."

"God that was cheesy, Cuddy. Where do you get your lines from, Desperate Housewives?"

"Shut up." Cuddy grumbled, smacking House on the arm.

"Oww…" he complained, lightly punching her. She punched him back, and he grabbed onto her waist and kissed her firmly.

"You better call in, I don't think I can wait much longer." he growled after breaking off the kiss.

"Fine." she said, but not before pecking him on the lips one more time. Oh, she would most definitely regret this, but hopefully not because House would. No, the reason for her reluctance to act upon twenty years of desire was the massive stack of paperwork sitting on her desk. That amount of paperwork could kill a weaker-minded person.

But, she reminded herself, Wilson would probably have some catch-up to do on his work, once he got back to the office. Something told her that it wouldn't be for a while. Phelps had a lot to learn about the male anatomy.


	7. Chapter 7

"Can't you open the door any faster?" Cuddy asked House as he fumbled around for his keys, his concentration not the best due to the fact that he had an extremely irresistible woman pressed up against him, sucking on his earlobe.

"I would, but my boss can't get off me for five seconds to let me find the keys." he groaned, after a particularity delightful bite on the neck.

"It's not your boss's fault that you kissed her and now she can't get enough of you." Cuddy whispered, before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Got 'em" House muttered as he stepped away from Cuddy and unlocked his apartment. He walked in as quickly as his leg could carry him, Cuddy close behind him, and proceeded to shuffle himself out just as swiftly. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he and Cuddy looked at each other with equally stunned expressions. Well, traumatized might be a better word, because no one comes away unscathed from seeing their best friend having sex in the middle of one's apartment. Especially when said friend is doing one's daughter. In one's living room. When one intends on doing their boss in the same apartment. Needless to say, the mood was lost.

"Oh my god…that was…"

"Disturbing?" Cuddy finished for him weakly. Nothing could have prepared her for THAT sight. Wilson sure seemed to have a lot of energy; the half second that she had seen her two employees writhing on the futon in the middle of House's living room had told her more than she had ever wanted to know.

"Yeah, just a _little_ bit unsettling, a _little_ bit of a mood killer. Well, that goes on the top of my list of things I NEVER want to see again. We're leaving. Now."

"Where, back to my place?" Cuddy asked, knowing that he had no intention of returning to the hospital. Unfortunately, the spell he had placed her under when he kissed her across the table had been lifted, and she had been given an unfortunate dose of reality.

"I don't know where else we would go."

"What about back to the hospital, to our _jobs_?" House groaned. Curse Phelps for bringing Wilson back to _his _place. It would have made much more sense to go to Wilson's apartment, but of course, fate was cruel and wanted to torture him just a little bit more.

"Cuddy, fifteen minutes ago you wanted me so much you were ready to take me in your car. Why the hell are you doing the reality check now? I want you. You want me. Simple as that." God, hopefully SOMETHING would get through her thick, rational head.

"What are we doing, House?" she asked resignedly.

"Oh, god, you want to have 'The Talk'." House groaned, rolling his eyes at her, which of course did not comfort her or cause her to fall back into his arms. It actually made her a little bit uneasy, as if the thought of House not wanting to talk about feelings put her ill at ease. Imagine that.

"Why were we going to your place anyway? Do we _want_ to have sex?"

"Yes, Cuddy, we want to have sex, at least I do, and I assumed that you did to, judging by the way you eagerly stroked me through my pants while we drove in your car, which, by the way, did not help us get here safely. In case you don't remember, I LOVE you." House said in frustration. Of course, reality _had _to come crashing down, and Cuddy _had _to start questioning intentions. Well, he knew what his intentions were. He wanted to make love to her, long and hard, on many different occasions, maybe after a nice take-out dinner on his couch or a glass of bourbon at her counter. But of course, she had to have him say them out loud, which would be about as easy for him to do as it would be to birth a child.

"Well sorry if I'm a _little_ bit cautious, but you're not exactly the safest guy to have a relationship with." Cuddy retorted.

"You really think I'd screw this up? You think that I just kissed you because I thought it would be fun? You think I admitted that I have some sort of horrible, shameful, _human _feelings towards someone because I'm BORED? God, grow a fucking brain! I _finally _decide that I want to have a bleeding relationship, after much prodding from the two people currently screwing behind that door, and you think it's all some sort of screwed up plan I have for you? Maybe you _want _to think I'm not taking this seriously, because you don't think _you're_ ready for a relationship either."

"_I'm _not ready for this relationship? _You've_ pushed me away at every opportunity I've given you!"

"So because I've pushed you away in the past, you're not willing to accept what you've wanted from me the whole time? I've _finally_ decided to give you some sort of window into what I'm _feeling_, and you're getting all skeptical? Well, I'm being bloody _human_, take it or leave it!" House was getting frustrated; why couldn't Cuddy just accept that he wanted her and intended on doing something about it? No, everyone expected _him_ to the be the bad guy and not let her close to him, but when he finally wants her in his life, she pushes him away, to avoid getting hurt, just like he pushed her away so he wouldn't hurt her, hurting her in the process. Cuddy remained silent at his latest proclamation, instead starting at the floor, looking guilty, which at least was a step.

"Cuddy! You like me, I like you, we should screw, it rhymes, it's good." House told her, echoing his earlier words to his daughter, who had unfortunately decided to follow his sage advice in his living room.

"You really want this?"

"If by 'this' you mean us standing outside my apartment while Wilson and Phelps get it on where I usually watch porn, then no. If you mean some sort of _relationship _where we stay at each other's places and go at it like rabbits, then yes." It was a sarcastic, House-like answer, and yet it was the most progress they had ever made.

"It was stupid of me to say we could just skip work and have sex."

"You _like_ sex."

"I like my job. We can't ignore the fact that we both have responsibilities to the hospital."

"Oh, so now you've moved on from doubting me to reprimanding me for jokingly suggest we go for an afternoon delight, something that you decidedly took seriously. Make up your mind woman, do you want to give into your desires and take us back to your place right now, or wait until tonight when we're eating pizza on my couch?"

"You're giving me a choice?"

"Well, I'm sure neither of the options are ideal to you, you probably would want to go on some fancy-ass dinner with a three-figure bill and a red rose, but I AM willing to let you into my apartment for a few hours, with the intention of getting some, of course."

"We really should get back to work…"

"But you don't want to." House finished for her, an evil grin on his face.

"You know, pissing a woman off probably isn't the best way to her bed."

"But it works on you, doesn't it." Cuddy didn't say anything, instead choosing to smile a rare, warm smile at him.

"Let's go." she said finally, after what seemed to be a lengthy debate in her head.

"To your house?" House asked eagerly. He was willing to wait until the evening, but if he didn't have to…

"I already called in sick, there's no sense in coming back in now."  
"And my team? They'll be fine with the case until tomorrow?" House asked, making sure he had all the angles covered lest she stop in the middle of love making to ask him about his patient.

"Should be. He's not dying." Cuddy responded casually, while House gaped at her.

"Wow, now that you know I'm not going to screw you over, you seem pretty damn eager to get back on me."

"Come on." she said, grabbing his wrist. House grinned. This was turning into a REALLY good day. He had, for now at least, a woman, and not just any woman, he had his boss, the she-devil, Lisa Cuddy, a woman that up until that moment, he wasn't entirely sure he really wanted.

*******************

"Did you hear the door open?" Phelps gasped as she lay on the futon, a very eager Wilson on top of her.

"No." he said, not wanting to stop his activities on the off-chance that House had come back to his apartment. It was risky, doing his best friend's daughter in the middle of his living room, but there was some incredibly satisfying about doing such an act in the diagnostician's apartment.

"Swore… I heard… ahhh…" she groaned as Wilson shut her up, using a very effective method. They continued their activities until Wilson was interrupted mid-thrust by an angry masculine voice, one that he was annoyed to recognize as House's.

"_Yes, Cuddy, we want to have sex, at least I do, and I assumed that you did to, judging by the way you eagerly stroked me through my pants while we drove in your car, which, by the way, did not help us get here safely. In case you don't remember, I LOVE you." _Whoa. That was unexpected. House _loved _her? How much had happened since they had gone back to his best friend's apartment?

"_Well sorry if I'm a little bit cautious, but you're not exactly the safest guy to have a relationship with."_ That would be angry, frustrated Cuddy, trying to convince herself that House was a very, very bad idea. Wilson looked down at his lover, who was wearing an expression halfway between exasperation and amusement. Trust House to show up at his apartment instead of taking Cuddy back to her place. Well, maybe he and Phelps should have gone back to Wilson's place, but they got there first, so House had no right to demand them to leave. If he even had the guts to go in there after what he had seen.

"_You really think I'd screw this up? You think that I just kissed you because I thought it would be fun? You think I admitted that I have some sort of horrible, shameful, human feelings towards someone because I'm BORED? God, grow a fucking brain! I finally decide that I want to have a bleeding relationship, after much prodding from the two people currently screwing behind that door, and you think it's all some sort of screwed up plan I have for you? Maybe you want to think I'm not taking this seriously, because you don't think you're ready for a relationship either." _Man, House seemed pretty cut up about it. Wilson had no idea he actually was willing to fight for a relationship. Of course, Wilson was happy that House had finally done something about Cuddy, but he was surprised to hear _him _yelling at Cuddy about commitment, instead of the other way around, like usual.

"I'm_ not ready for this relationship? _You've_ pushed me away at every opportunity I've given you!" _That, at least, was true. House had been given _so _many chances, and at every opportunity, he just let her go.

"_So because I've pushed you away in the past, you're not willing to accept what you've wanted from me the whole time? I've _finally _decided to give you some sort of window into what I'm _feeling_, and you're getting all skeptical? Well, I'm being bloody _human_, take it or leave it!" _

"You think the door I heard…" Phelps whispered, with a mortified look of realization.

"Was House and Cuddy?" Wilson finished for her, equally scared. No, he would be in no end of mockery once House got a hold of him. "Probably." he admitted, rolling off of her. There would be time to continue once House and Cuddy got the hell out of there.

"_Cuddy! You like me, I like you, we should screw, it rhymes, it's good."_

"That'd what he told me this morning about you." Phelps said weakly as she stroked Wilson's cheek, REALLY wanting House and Cuddy to stop arguing and just leave.

"_You really want this?"_

"_If by 'this' you mean us standing outside my apartment while Wilson and Phelps get it on where I usually watch porn, then no. If you mean some sort of _relationship_ where we stay at each other's places and go at it like rabbits, then yes."_

"I think it was them." Wilson said unenthusiastically, placing a soft kiss on Phelps' lips. Hopefully they were getting to the end of their argument. Wilson didn't know how much longer he would last; he still had a raging hard-on that needed to be taken care of, quickly.

"_It was stupid of me to say we could just skip work and have sex."_ Great, Cuddy wanted to debate whether or not she wanted to screw House. Of course she did, something had just shocked her out of her lusty haze, probably seeing her two employees screwing on a futon.

"_You _like_ sex."_

"_I like my job. We can't ignore the fact that we both have responsibilities to the hospital." _Phelps rolled her eyes at Wilson. The woman couldn't even stop thinking about work to get laid.

"_Oh, so now you've moved on from doubting me to reprimanding me for jokingly suggest we go for an afternoon delight, something that you decidedly took seriously. Make up your mind woman, do you want to give into your desires and take us back to your place right now, or wait until tonight when we're eating pizza on my couch?" _House better not want the apartment back; Phelps was planning on keeping Wilson there all night.

"_You're giving me a choice?"_

"_Well, I'm sure neither of the options are ideal to you, you probably would want to go on some fancy-ass dinner with a three-figure bill and a red rose, but I AM willing to let you into my apartment for a few hours, with the intention of getting some, of course."_ Damn. The fight for the apartment would probably end badly for her; she was, after all, only a temporary guest.

"_We really should get back to work…" _Yes, god, the hospital, Cuddy's house, the moon, anywhere would be better than outside the door.

"_But you don't want to."_

"_You know, pissing a woman off probably isn't the best way to her bed."_

"_But it works on you, doesn't it." _Phelps placed kisses on Wilson's chest as they waited for House and Cuddy to figure out what the hell was going on.

"_Let's go."_

"Finally." Wilson muttered, causing Phelps to smile at him seductively. He knew what was on her mind, the same thing that was on his.

"_To your house?"_

"_I already called in sick, there's no sense in coming back in now." _Wilson smiled, it was highly unusual for Cuddy to skip work, she must have really wanted House. _  
"And my team? They'll be fine with the case until tomorrow?" _And trust House to want all the loose ends tied up, just in case Cuddy remembered something in the throes of passion.

"_Should be. He's not dying."_

"_Wow, now that you know I'm not going to screw you over, you seem pretty damn eager to get back on me." _Finally. Wilson was pretty eager to get back on Phelps.

"_Come on." _They heard House's cane thump away from the door, and Wilson looked at Phelps.

"Shall we continue?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in a way that Phelps could not resist.

"Mmmhmm." she replied, as Wilson climbed back on top. Sex with a man was turning out to be a good idea. A very, very good idea.

*********************

"You're very assertive in bed, you know." House and Cuddy were lying in Cuddy's bed, House twirling his fingers around her soft curls, a move that she was very surprised at. Who knew that House liked to touch women's hair?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cuddy asked. Sure, she had thrown House right onto the bed and ripped both of their cloths off, as soon as she had send the sitter home and made sure Rachael was alright, but what was wrong with an alpha female? Besides, House would have wanted to drag it out and pleasure her first, a move that while appreciated, would not help with the need to screw him fast and hard.

"It means you don't like men taking control. Which is why you're so happy to be in control of a hospital, in a man's job. I bet you couldn't last ten minutes with me in charge of the activities."

"That's ridiculous. I could let you be on top." Cuddy muttered.

"Care to make it interesting?" House said, waggling his eyebrows.

"What kind of interesting? If you want to do something stupid with handcuffs and chains, I'm out." God only knows what House's imagination could come up with. Scratch that, God would be appalled at the things that went on inside the man's mind.

"I mean a wager. If you can't let me be in control of the sex for ten minutes, I get two weeks off clinic duty AND we have to go into the hospital together tomorrow. Holding hands." Cuddy raised her eyebrows at that. Holding hands? Either House wanted to punish her for doubting him by starting a rumour wildfire, or he actually wanted some sort of PDA. The former was more likely.

"Fine," Cuddy said, figuring that she could last TEN minutes without having control over the bed. "But if I DO last ten minutes, you have to do one extra month of clinic, no complaints."

"Fine." House said, grinning wildly. On the off chance that she DID last ten minutes, he would just get Thirteen to do his extra clinic. It was a pretty sure bet. House hadn't even been able to pin her to the door before she had pushed him (mindful of his leg, of course) onto her bed and climbed on top of him. The whole alpha female thing was very sexy, of course, but he had wanted to show her how a real man made love. "You can't tell me what to do; you can't take control in anyway, as much as I will annoy you, you can't demand anything. Deal?"

"Deal." This would be a good exercise for her; relinquishing control had never been one of her strong suits and now was as good a time as ever to learn a new skill. House began to place kisses on her chest, almost reaching the spot that Cuddy wanted his lips to go, but he veered off and went for the side of her stomach, not an area that gave her much sexual pleasure, though the feel of his rough lips on her skin was starting to get her aroused. Every time his lips or hands would reach an area that she wanted them to go, House would remove them. She had to hand it to him, he was excellent at teasing her, getting her slowly aroused to the point that she decided she couldn't take it anymore. She knew that while he seemed to be enjoying himself (the evil grins he gave her when he looked up had told her that), he was also ready to get down to business.

"House," she started, using her best administrator voice. "Get up here."

"What's that, mistress? You want me to stop? You're admitting defeat?"

"Just get up here and kiss me, you asshole."

"Resistance is futile." House said, pulling himself back up to her head, a long journey seeing as he was paying special attention to her shins.

"You want me to kiss you?" he asked innocently, smiling mischievously. Cuddy didn't answer, but instead pulled his head rather forcefully to hers, giving him an incredible open mouthed kiss.

"You know, you only lasted four minutes." House commented after breaking the kiss. "I've been watching your clock. Get ready for everyone to gawk at us when we walk into the hospital together."

"Is this your way of letting me know we're a thing?" she asked sexily.

"Mmmhmm. Are you going to go all she-devil on me and pin me to the bed again?"

"You can be on top this time." Cuddy said, licking the side of his neck. God, had House ever been missing a lot in the bedroom department. Cuddy had become even more passionate in the twenty years since they had last bedded each other. Or desked each other. Whatever term worked.

"Well, let's not waste time." House said, positioning himself so that he wouldn't put too much stress on his right leg.

"No, let's not waste time." Cuddy agreed, before House finally did what she had been waiting for him to do since they had both woken up. It would be a long night. A long, delicious, long awaited night. And, with luck, the day after wouldn't be so bad. Of course, luck wasn't something that followed the pair around, but hopefully their relationship would last a little while before the inevitable explosion.


End file.
